


Temptation

by owl_coffee



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Chess, F/M, Plotting, Power Dynamics, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:36:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23081830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owl_coffee/pseuds/owl_coffee
Summary: Lady Margolotta tries to make Lord Vetinari an offer he can't refuse.
Relationships: Lady Margolotta/Havelock Vetinari
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

"Lady Margolotta Amaya Katerina Assumpta Crassina von Uberwald, my Lord." The clerk bore a reproachful expression as he closed the door behind her, as if to say, are you sure this audience is _wise_ , my Lord? But he left them to their own devices just the same.

"Lady Margolotta. What an ... unexpected pleasure." Vetinari's voice hadn't changed at all. He motioned her to sit and held out an unlabelled bottle, invitingly. "Would you care for anything? I had Drumknott visit the kosher butcher specially. In case you wanted particular refreshment, after your long journey."

She noted with satisfaction that his gaze was arrested for a fraction of a second by the Dress. Lady Margolotta had agonised over what to wear for this audience for weeks, and had had something made. A few of the men on the way over here had walked into walls as their heads followed the Dress out of sight. Perhaps it was playing dirty, but she had a feeling she would need all the help she could get.

"I thank you, but it is not necessary," said Lady Margolotta.

Vetinari sat down opposite her, smiling faintly. They regarded one another silently for a long moment. 

Her nerve broke first. "You are looking vell," she said. "For a man of your age."

Vetinari seemed disappointed in this line of enquiry. "The city keeps me well occupied. I hardly have time to grow old and shaky."

"And yet you _do_ grow old," said Lady Margolotta. She had meant to get to the subject diplomatically, slowly. She couldn't help it. Time had wrought such small but profound changes on him. She felt almost faint, thinking how near she had come to not making this journey after all. "The veins stand out on the backs of your hands, now."

Vetinari did not look down at his hands. "Yes," he said.

"Your bones are closer to the surface than they used to be. You vere a skinny young man but never so gaunt as you are this day," said Lady Margolotta.

"Yes." Vetinari did not blink.

"That cane you use is not merely a statement of style - "

"Lady Margolotta, what are you _doing_ here?" Vetinari's voice was as sharp as a whip. "Ankh-Morpork is honoured by your visit. But I know you do not travel lightly. You are not accustomed to travelling _at all_."

She tried consciously for a lighter tone. "Since you vould not come to visit me, it seemed the best policy."

Vetinari frowned. "I don't have the fullest information on certain other regions of Uberwald at the moment, but my network informs me fairly reliably that the town of Bonk is enjoying a quiet interval. For once."

"Vould you believe me if I said I had come solely to enjoy the pleasure of your company?" asked Lady Margolotta. She rested a hand on Vetinari's, for a moment. He was warm. The veins on the back of his hand kept time with the pulse of his heart.

He was too much of a gentleman just to shrug off her touch, standing up and pacing across the room on some pretense instead. 

"My Lady, please do me the credit of assuming I have some faculties left. Despite my - age." Vetinari poured out a shallow measure of some amber liquid from a crystal decanter on the sideboard. "Would you care to try a sip of an Ankh-Morpork delicacy, perhaps? I'm told that 'Old Bearhugger's' single malt is particularly good."

He put it into her hands, which closed on the heavy glass tumbler automatically. Lady Margolotta's mouth was dry as dust, she realised. Being near him made her thirsty. For something to do while she thought of how to phrase her proposal, she actually took a sip of the stuff.

"Ugh!" Lady Margolotta spat involuntarily. "Vhat _is_ this?!"

Vetinari's mouth was momentarily occupied by a grin of amusement. "The MacAbre. Their finest, I'm afraid. Perhaps I should have warned you - Commander Vimes tells me it tastes like Hogswatch, which I'm sure is true, if one concentrates on the sensation in the remaining pieces of one's tongue."

"Ah, Vimes. Such an interesting mind," said Lady Margolotta, momentarily diverted. "I commend you for keeping him pointed in the right direction."

"Hah." Vetinari smiled again, briefly. "He's more entertaining than most of my other puzzles." He looked at her penetratingly. "You have something in common, of course. Black Ribboner.[1]"

Lady Margolotta watched as a drop of the whisky crept its way along the outside of the decanter toward Vetinari's hand. Without looking, just before it would have moistened his fingers, he removed his hand from the decanter. Yes, he was good. For a human he was as close to perfection as art would allow.

Lady Margolotta shrugged. "Perhaps there are similarities. It is only ever a day at a time, they say. But as you taught me a vhile ago, there are compensations."

"Control, yes," said Vetinari. "When they rule, people want to be feared, to be loved. In my view it is better still to be - there. To be such a part of the fabric of their world that they struggle even to picture your absence."

Lady Margolotta leaned forward. "And yet you are mortal," she said softly.

The merest flicker crossed his face. A human would not have detected the change in his expression before he schooled himself into stillness. But Lady Margolotta was not human.

"Are you not concerned about vhat vill happen to your beloved Ankh-Morpork vhen you cannot continue to rule?" she asked bluntly.

"I have put things on a path - " began Vetinari.

"A path that can be _derailed_ , yes? Do you trust anyone currently in your employ to succeed you? Your new Duke of Ankh, perhaps? How long do you suppose he vould last?"

Something creased Vetinari's lips, but it was not a smile. "Oh, I'd give him six months at least. Old Stoneface managed that, and it was a much more chaotic time."

"It is always a chaotic time, vithout a hand at the tiller. Chaos is only a fingers-length away. A breath away." Lady Margolotta walked toward him. "Your breath, to be precise."

The skirts of the Dress brushed against Vetinari's thigh as she leaned toward him.

Suddenly Vetinari's hands held a sharp wooden stake against her breastbone. "This isn't like you, Margolotta," he said evenly. "I had thought heaving bosoms and fluttering nightdresses were so - beneath you." He seemed calm as ever. Only his pupillary dilation told her his true response.

Lady Margolotta stepped backward with a sigh. "You can put that down. I'm not trying to seduce you, Havelock. Or to kill you."

"Oh yes?" said Vetinari, not moving. "You'll pardon me if I'm not entirely convinced by that argument."

"As you might recall, if I _vere_ attempting either you'd be in a rather different position by now." Lady Margolotta smiled. "It's not been so long that you've forgotten, has it?" She was starting to enjoy herself.

"As you pointed out earlier, I have aged a great deal since those days," said Vetinari. He put the stake down within reach. "You were never so transparent as this, Lady Margolotta. What game are we playing today, truly?"

"How about a game of Stealth Chess?" suggested Lady Margolotta lightly. "It seems a pity to pass up a rare opportunity to play our correspondence game in person at last."

Vetinari raised an eyebrow. "Certainly." The stake vanished inside some inner pocket of his, and he led her up a spiral staircase to another office, a smaller one. The walls were lined with books and the furniture spoke of a certain amount of comfortable disarray, with well-worn dark leather chairs and a scattering of different desks strewn with papers. Perhaps he kept this one for private thoughts rather than public audiences.

"Cosy," said Lady Margolotta. She wondered which of these papers he intended her to see, and glanced around to file away the writing on each sheet for future reference.

Vetinari pulled a chair up to the other side of the small table where a chess set lay mid-game. Two chairs barely fit into the stone alcove.

"You'll pardon the lack of space," he said, clearing his throat. "I'm accustomed to playing solitaire."  
  
They sat down and Lady Margolotta could barely stifle a giggle of elation. This was going to be so much fun!

"Shall ve start a fresh game, or continue vith our previous match?" asked Lady Margolotta.

"I leave it up to you," said Vetinari. "I will, however, warn you that my wits are a little rustier when I don't have the time to think that the clacks allows us. If we continue the present game it will take less time to complete."

"Leaving more time for - " 

"For our discussion of your true purpose," said Vetinari, leaning back in the leather chair. "Make no mistake, that will occur."

"But first, chess," said Lady Margolotta, and cleared the board for a fresh game. She gave him black and advanced one of white's pawns. "Your move."

It was glorious to play him in person. She'd meant it just as a distraction, a bait to bring his guard down a little for later, but she found herself getting drawn into the dance of the game regardless. Move and counter-move followed like the steps of a heated argument. Playing by clacks was all very well, a long-drawn-out pleasure taken in a single drop a day. But to play rapidly, without the delay of response, to see him frown infinitesimally and hear his breathing hasten as he reacted to her gambits - it was heaven. Lady Margolotta felt drunk on it.

"Check-mate," said Vetinari at last, sounding delighted. As always, he'd used the Assassin pieces perfectly, but never lost sight of the overall sway of the game.

Lady Margolotta tipped over her king, making a tiny sound against the ivory of the board. "All good things must come to an end," she said sadly.

Vetinari threw her a sharp look. 

"That is vhat I need to discuss vith you," she said abruptly. It wasn't possible to prevaricate any longer. "Good things, coming to an end."

Was that the tiniest trace of fear in his eyes? 

Vetinari stood up from the board. "At least we had the chance to play beforehand," he said.

Then everything was flung into motion at once. Vetinari had something in his hand but Lady Margolotta seized his wrist with vampiric strength and bore them both up to the ceiling together, pressing him against the moulded fresco of the architrave.

There was a scuffle of feet outside. "Patrician?" came voices - guards presumably. "Is everything all right?"

"I came here to turn you into a vampire, Havelock," said Lady Margolotta.

"What!" Vetinari relaxed his grip on the silver dagger and it clattered to the floor beneath them.

"Lord Vetinari?" came the voice again.

Without turning around, Lady Margolotta said in Vetinari's voice, "All is well. Go about your business."

"That's good, and what's the word today, milord?"

"Please give me some credit for accounting for things that might speak in my voice," whispered Vetinari. "They are not the brightest, but they are my guards, after all."

Lady Margolotta grimaced. 

Vetinari gave her a piercing look, as if he was trying to gaze through to the back of her head.

"Milord?"

"Cabbage," said Vetinari loudly. Then, after another long moment, "Please neglect any further noises you may hear from this room tonight, sergeant."

"Thank you milord. A good evening to you and her ladyship." There was the tiniest hint of a snicker from outside.

Lady Margolotta dropped them both to the ground. Vetinari bent his knees and landed almost as silently as she did. Just the whisper of the Dress kissing the tiled floor was all the sound there was.

"Is that the true password? Or a signal that they must get reinforcements and return?" asked Lady Margolotta curiously.

"The true one," said Vetinari. 

"You _vould_ say that, of course - "

"Why?" interrupted Vetinari. "Why on earth would you propose such a thing to me now?" He was breathing heavily after their little excursion and some colour had risen in his pale cheeks. "No more games, Margolotta."

"I can't help but see the other side to everything, to suspect motives and plots. It's vhat keeps me on my toes and makes my life interesting. Neither can you, I know it. But you must try to believe me - this isn't a plot. Or if it is, it's a plot vhich vould benefit you and your city immensely." Lady Margolotta could see she had Vetinari's complete attention. "I spoke truly when I said you had no vorthy successor. One day you vill die. On that day everything you've vorked for here could be thrown into ruin. Don't try to deny it."

"I have laid foundations here," said Vetinari. "My planning horizon is admittedly shorter than yours, but there are things I've built up which would be difficult to undo all at once."

"Gradually, then. Over the course of vhat, a generation or two perhaps. They'll forget you, they'll forget life under you. The Mint, the City Vatch - all that could disappear just as easily as it grew strong. How long vould the city's institutions last under another Lord Snapcase? Another Lord Winder?"

Vetinari shook his head as if to clear it. "So your notion is ... "

"To make you eternal. To place you as ruler here beyond the touch of time, beyond aging. To make you into a vampire, yes."

Lady Margolotta was still holding Vetinari's wrist, she noted absently. He hadn't taken it away from her grasp. Blue veins jumped under her hand.

"What is your interest in this - scheme - exactly? What does it serve you?" asked Vetinari.

Lady Margolotta smiled. "It's quite simple. I'd have a known quantity in place here in Ankh-Morpork permanently. Someone to anchor my plans Hubwards, to defend my flank and allow trade to continue unmolested between Uberwald and your city. Another voice for progress. For not always doing things the old vay just because that's the vay they've always been done. I think that was your phrase, wasn't it?" She licked her lips. He had such a pale, elegant neck. "And of course it vould be a personal pleasure to keep you around. Old friend."

Vetinari swallowed. "I have some years left before I would expect to die," he said. "Why not put this proposal to me at a later date? Why now?"

"Do you really not see it?" Lady Margolotta said, letting go of his wrist and turning to the chessboard. "How close you are to the precipice here? A single assassin who isn't scared of your reputation, a moment's inattention as your reactions grow slower - " She pushed over the black king. "People like us don't die in our beds of old age, Havelock. You'll lose your edge and then someone vill take you out. Somebody as eager for power as you vere, all those years ago. And unlike me, you von't rise again from the grave. Not vithout help."

"You propose making me more vulnerable, not less," said Vetinari heatedly. "Vampires have so many things to fear. Sunlight, religious symbols, garlic. Even a humble pencil would kill me in the state that you suggest!"

"Yes but there is so much more to it, Havelock! Your senses vould be keener. You'd see assassination plots coming miles away. No more vorrying about poison, about who to trust. You could read _minds_! Isn't that something you've alvays vanted? To know for certain vhat your people are thinking?"

"What do my thoughts say, then?" asked Vetinari. He took hold of Lady Margolotta's hand and pressed it to his temple with a force that would be painfully strong if she were a human. "Can you tell me?"

"You know I can't read it now." Not without the kind of intimate contact they hadn't had in decades. "Vithout human blood certain abilities are - dimmed."

Vetinari smiled narrowly. There wasn't any humour in it. "That's another matter. Your particular diet."

"I'm a Ribboner now. You could take up the ribbon too, if you vanted. It's not pleasant, but it is sufficient."

"I think you over-estimate my self-control," breathed Vetinari. 

That sounded promising. Lady Margolotta leaned in and inhaled the fragrance of his neck, a clean masculine odour with a hint of liquorice and parchment. By the way he stiffened she could tell it had been a long time since he'd permitted anyone else this close.

"I haven't given you my answer," said Vetinari, still not moving.

"Am I not allowed to infer?" asked Lady Margolotta. "I could _show_ you everything you'd have if you were like me. Make a demonstration. But you've never needed long-vinded explanations. You were always an infernally quick study, Havelock." She pressed her lips against the base of his neck, just a whisper of a touch, and waited there impatiently.

Vetinari shivered. He closed his eyes, for one long moment, and she thought she had him. But then - 

"No," he said, and stepped backward out of her grasp.

"No?!"

"I've considered your proposal and I've decided against it," said Vetinari, giving her an unreadable look. "I'm sorry you had the inconvenience of travelling all this way. But I don't intend to reconsider."

Lady Margolotta grasped his shoulders and pushed him against the wall with a soft thump. The Dress rustled angrily. "You can't be serious."

"I assure you I am perfectly serious." Vetinari said. He gazed at her. "You're more passionate about this notion than I've seen you about almost anything before. But I cannot agree to this, not even for you. If you are ... peckish I suggest taking up my offer from earlier in the evening."

"How dare you make light of me." Lady Margolotta wanted to shake him back and forth until his silly head struck the wall. 

"I promise I'm doing nothing of the kind," said Vetinari gently. "Think about it this way. Ankh-Morpork as a city relies on change, and in some crucial ways on the consent of the governed. Oh, they say they don't have a choice and that I'm some sort of dictator, but try getting up a mob to storm the Palace and overthrow me and people will drift away muttering about all the things they have to do tomorrow. Make me a vampire and all that goes away. I know you've seen angry mobs before. Vampires _run_ on them. But it's not possible to rule a city like that. Sullen obedience and fear is one thing for keeping check of a crowd of peasants - "

"You vouldn't even have to tell them," said Lady Margolotta furiously. "Half of them think you're undead already! You'd just be feeding the myth they all love to hate!"

Vetinari pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "My Commander of the Watch would know the difference. He _despises_ vampires."

"Vimes hates us because we remind him of all the things he can't control," said Lady Margolotta. "You could vin him around in a heartbeat. You vouldn't even have to drink from him, he's already your thrall."

"And dozens of others would know as well, Margolotta. This isn't going to work. It would never work."

"Don't you vant more time? You've barely begun the vork you want to do for this city! Another lifetime wouldn't be enough!" Lady Margolotta did shake him then, and he took it without trying to move aside or raise a weapon.

"No amount of time would be enough," sighed Vetinari, drawing into himself a little. He looked more fragile, brittle, of a sudden.

Lady Margolotta turned away from him impatiently. She strode across the chamber to where the silver dagger had fallen to the floor, and picked it up for a moment. "Silver, Havelock? That's for a verevolf," she said, and stabbed it into the chessboard deep enough that no human would be able to get it back out again, pinning the board to the wooden table.

"I was distracted," said Vetinari from the other side of the room. "And that chess set is - was, I should say - an antique. Possibly one of a kind."

"Any normal person vould seize the chance to live forever and say 'yipee!'," she added bitterly. "Vhy do you have to make everything so complicated?"

"Any normal Morporkian would also ask you 'what's the catch'?" said Vetinari. "There's no such thing as a free pie, as the charming local phrase goes." He spoke softer. "I had my chance when you offered me this a lifetime ago, Margolotta. My choice isn't any different today."

"I should have kept you with me then," said Lady Margolotta. "Turned you fully. You half-vanted it, couldn't make up your mind, and I let you leave despite my better judgement. Perhaps I vanted to see how you would mature and grow into yourself. Listen to me now, there von't be another opportunity for this."

"I can't."

She drew closer to him again, enough to see that his hands were shaking, just a little. If it wasn't for the urgency of the situation she would take pride in having upset his famous composure so much.

Lady Margolotta raised a hand to Vetinari's neck, felt the warmth beneath her palm. She slid her fingers through the short hairs behind his head, cupping the base of his skull. He closed his eyes.

"I could do it to you anyvay," she whispered. "You know I can. Why fight this?"

Without opening his eyes, Vetinari said, "Without my agreement, it would be worthless to you. And I cannot agree."

Lady Margolotta's fingers clawed involuntarily in his hair. It must have been painful to him, but all he did was look at her again.

"You don't want a mindless servant," said Vetinari with that maddening logic of his. "You want an equal. So I conclude that you wouldn't turn me without my agreement. I'd make a terrible thrall."

"Then agree, damn you," said Lady Margolotta. Her eyes stung unexpectedly and she blinked.

From nowhere a black silk handkerchief was pressed into her hand. She took it and blew her nose on it gratefully.

"I understand it must be hard living under the Ribbon," Vetinari was saying. "If you wish, while you are visiting, there are certain - criminal elements the city would be grateful to see permanently removed. If a man hangs or if he is exsanguinated, where is the difference? Justice would still be served. Ankh-Morpork could, hm, look the other way for you."

She glared at him. "Are you really suggesting I'm doing all this out of hunger? If I vanted to sate a craving there are easier opportunities at home, for the gods' sake. _Some_ men practically fling themselves at me when they find out my nature, no underwired nightdresses are necessary."

"We can't help how we're made," said Vetinari. "But we can decide what we do with our lives afterwards. You taught me that."

"Hah. You really have matured," said Lady Margolotta. She reached up to push a strand of hair away from his forehead. "You must be so proud of vhat the city has become under your care."

"Ankh-Morpork is bigger than any one person," said Vetinari. "I'm not so egotistical as to imagine that it can't flourish in my absence. It must."

"I hope you are right, Havelock. But your lives are so _short_ ," said Lady Margolotta, feeling close to tears again. "I barely come to care for you and then Death comes to take you from me. Vhat do you have left, even considering the natural span? Another few decades, half a century at most? Then out like a snuffed candle."

"Yes," said Vetinari.

"I can see that my errand has been fruitless," said Lady Margolotta, turning blindly to go. "You're right, I shouldn't have come."

"Wait," he said softly.

She turned to face him.

"I invite you to stay with me a little longer, my Lady," he said, looking at her with those indecipherable eyes. "Nevertheless."

"Yes," said Lady Margolotta.


	2. Postscript

Sergeant Bones thought his Lordship was looking a little gloomy, all things considered. Given that he'd had a _woman_ staying in his rooms last night, you'd think the old skeleton would be a bit more cheerful of a morning.

"Her ladyship not staying for breakfast, sir?" he dared to ask as the Patrician sipped at coffee in the watery morning sunshine.

The Patrician blinked, as if his thoughts were miles away. "No, sergeant, she could not stay. She ... ate already."

"She seemed a fine figure of a woman, your lordship," said Sergeant Bones. "Very, ahem, very interestin' dress." His sense of self-preservation urgently signalled to him that he ought not to hazard a wink.

"Indeed." 

The Patrician held out a dog-biscuit under the table for his terrier. It snapped it up and ate with disgusting moist snuffling sounds. Sergeant Bones really didn't know what the man saw in that dog.

"Well, er, morning then sir." 

"Good day, sergeant," said the Patrician, "My best to your grandmother. I trust she is recovering well from the attack of Gnats."

"Yessir, thank you sir."

Sergeant Bones noticed the Patrician itching at a piece of sticking plaster just beneath his collar. Prob'ly a shaving accident, he thought, as he made his way out of the Palace and home for a good sleep. Palace guards aren't valued for their great thinking-power, more for their ability to look decorative in tights and prop up a wall during a long and uneventful night watch, so he didn't remark at this, despite his master's proficiency with all manner of edged weapons. It also didn't occur to him to think - who shaves their _neck_?

Back at the breakfast table Vetinari whistled a perfectly remembered snatch of 'La Triviata', and buttered a piece of toast philosophically. After a moment's thought, he picked up a pen and notepad.

\- * -

Lady Margolotta slept on native earth packed into a coffin, which played havoc with any sort of elaborate hairstyle but there you were. Her Igor had managed to find them a townhouse with cool, roomy cellars at least.

The knock on the lid came just as she was settling down to sleep at last. Brushing pebbles out of her nightdress and picking a beetle from her hair, she sat up. "Vot is it?" she asked irritably. She had thought she could get at least a few hours' rest before they packed up for the old country. Travelling by cart was so tiresome.

"A letter from the Palace, mithtreth."

Lady Margolotta felt her face crease into a genuine smile as she read the note.

"Ah, Igor, I vill miss him so," she said. "Have the carriage brought around after sunset, vill you? Ve may be staying in Ankh-Morpork just a short vhile longer."

**Author's Note:**

> 1 The Uberwald League of Temperance, made up of vampires who wear black ribbons to show they have completely sworn off the red sticky stuff, my vord yes, and much prefer a nice black pudding and a healthy game of billiards.


End file.
